


Will you still be there if I stop counting

by Geisterschiff



Series: Second Try I Have Not Asked For [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Established Relationship, Hunk is mentioned, M/M, Memory Loss, Reestablishing Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geisterschiff/pseuds/Geisterschiff
Summary: Keith's accident smashes into their lives like a battle ax. Especially after he opens his eyes and doesn't recognize anyone. His memory loss might be just temporary and Lance clutches that thought between his fingers. He takes a deep breath before he starts to count the time until Keith's memory returns.But what if it never does?Written for Klanceweek 2018 - Day 5 Memory Loss





	Will you still be there if I stop counting

**Author's Note:**

> The awesome Mori did art for this, aaaa tysm it's so beautiful TwT  
> [You can check it out here!](https://dyinginjapanese.tumblr.com/post/174629856159/a-belated-pic-for-klance-week-day-4-free-day-i)

Lance knew days probably weren’t enough time so he did not bother with them. He started off with counting weeks and with hope. He set aside time to visit Keith every day for as long as he was in the hospital, sitting at his bed, doing what he did best. He talked almost without a pause to breathe. Talked about all the things that had shaped Keith’s past.  
He didn’t want to pile too much on him from the start though, so he left out the ones that had shaped _theirs_. At least for now, ignoring the sharp pangs at his heart as best as he could.  
  
Every third day Lance also brought fresh flowers to make Keith’s white, sterile room a little bit brighter. He picked as many different kinds as he could, alternating colors and took great care in explaining their meaning to Keith. Just certain little blue flowers were something he stayed away from.  
  
Lance counted week five when Keith was released from the hospital and he could bring him home. To _their_ home. The sore topic he avoided since day one, coming up with different excuses why not to tell Keith they had been a couple before the accident, rapped its knuckles on the door. Lance couldn’t dance around it anymore, even though he knew what was coming and it already hurt.    
So on the fine Monday of week five he started to nudge the truth onto Keith. The empty look and emotionless “Oh…” he got was exactly the reaction he expected, but the expecting did not lessen the pain in the slightest. At least Keith was ready to return home now.  
Ready to be welcomed by an apartment he did not recognize, did not remember. It was filled to the brim with photos of him and Lance, with little trinkets that seemed just like unimportant junk, but were apparently packed with memories Keith was missing. At least Lance’s fond look and the strategic placement whispered that.  
Lance stayed at Keith’s side as he went through the apartment. A few steps away, watching him while constantly picking at the skin on the back of his hand. His look was hopeful - maybe something here would be the right trigger to burst open the door that held Keith’s memories locked away.  
Keith just assessed it all with calm expression. There was a tint of curiosity curled around the brim of his irises, but that was it. His eyes weren’t blown wide by recognition, pupils stayed the same size and when Keith looked over the last photo, ran his fingers over the small bouquet of forget-me-nots placed in front of it, he addressed Lance with a “Now what?” question hovering in his eyes.  
  
Lance stared into Keith’s eyes for several silent minutes. He saw the familiar violet hue that he remembered was the brightest when Keith looked at him with hooded eyes. But there was another hue now, etched in along with the purple color.  
A sad hue of remorse.  
“I’m really sorry Lance. I just…”  
“It’s fine.” The smile on Lance’s lips did not feel as forced in that very moment. “Don’t push it Keith. I’m sure your memories will return if we just give it enough time.” It was still fresh and he was too selfish to add _‘But it’s fine if they don’t.’_  
  
They turned the guest’s bedroom into Keith’s and Lance counted on. Week after week and his hope started to wilt.  
  
  
Lance counted week thirty-five when the thought of ‘years’ crossed his mind. He did his best to be attentive, but not pushy. He gave Keith enough space, even though it felt like glass shards digging into his heart as he watched him go to another room at night while Lance slept in an empty bed.  
Lance had never imagined he could be touch-starved, but now no matter how many hugs he received from his friends, they were never enough to soothe the ache, the longing. Not even Hunk’s bear hugs and that fact hurt almost as much as the closeness between him and Keith he had lost.  
  
A year turned around and Lance wasn’t convincing himself anymore, as he curled under freshly washed sky blue sheets at night, that the fact Keith stayed alive was enough.  
It was. It took a bit to cope with it, to push down the voice screaming ‘I want the old Keith back.’, but Lance grew to accept it. He had spent the year grasping at things he felt like a phantom touch on his fingertips, things that weren’t even there. Had done it while ignoring what was within his reach.  
But as one night he got up to get a glass of water and found Keith sleeping on the couch, a photo in his grasp he must have been staring at, Lance painfully realized how hard Keith was trying. Not only to reconnect with his past, but most importantly to reconnect with Lance.  
Lance swallowed heavily, air scratching down his parched throat, and let go. He stopped chasing something he didn’t even see and turned around, facing the stormy violet with only one go.  
He tried to free them both from the obsession to become what was already gone.  
  
Things became easier then and if nothing else, Lance could say he had gained a friend. There were moments, few and far between still, when they could just laugh together all free, have a movie night or tell each other stupid jokes. And when at night they laughed so hard at that stupid D rated horror movie until their cheeks and bellies ached, when they passed out on the couch leaning against each other under one blanket, Lance did feel like thrown back to the time he and Keith were mere college roommates.  
  
They are three years in now and they are as fine as they could be. Lance feels like he is falling for the now-Keith all over again. It is still Keith, but different - the events in his past that had shaped him are something Lance told him about and it feels more like Keith had only watched them from a distance.  
But it is fine, they have both learned to live with it.  
More than fine, actually, Lance thinks as they prepare for another movie night. He stares at the microwave, waiting for all the popcorn to pop when he hears shuffling feet behind himself.  
Keith is nervous, fingers pulling at the skin on the back of his hand, a habit he had picked up from Lance. It makes Lance smile fondly, but then he notices the forget-me-nots Keith is clutching in his hand and he grows nervous too.  
“I… don’ want you to think this is out of pity. It just happened and I mean it’s kind of no surprise with how much time we spend together, with me living here and such.” Keith is rambling, a habit he definitely did not have before either and Lance finds it endearing.  
“You have been so attentive in the last three years. So caring. You have done everything to ease me back into normal life as best as possible and… it was impossible not to fall for you, Lance.”  
  
Lance feels himself tremble. Feels like Keith’s words are making him deaf. He is distracted by the way Keith picks at the flowers now, dried leaves falling to the ground and Lance is sure Keith isn’t really aware what he is doing, just stubbornly stares somewhere in the direction of Lance’s collarbone.  
“And this must be quite weird for you, but if you will have _this_ me…” Keith turns the bouquet over in his hand and then finally lifts his head.  
Lance doesn’t realize he is crying until Keith looks at him with shocked expression. He hurries over, ready to ask Lance if he is okay, ready to apologize for overstepping, because he should have been aware Lance might not even like him like that anymore, but he only manages to open his mouth when the microwave beeps and startles the both of them half to death.  
They hold onto each other as the microwave loudly proclaims their popcorn is ready. Lance’s forehead is pressed against Keith’s and he is looking deep into the beautiful violet that has its brightness back. The small bouquet of blue flowers is squeezed between their palms and a feeling spreads through Lance that maybe he should put all the photos, all the trinkets in his apartment away in a box and fill it with new ones.  
Because that is perfectly fine.  
Because even though he doesn’t have the past, he still got Keith.  
Lance has to smile when their lips connect in a chaste kiss, just a light and innocent peck.  
  
Lance starts to put the things away right the next day and Keith helps. He can’t bring himself to just throw them all away, so he fills up a box or two to store away under his bed he still sleeps alone in. They don’t want to rush and that is completely fine. Just baby steps.  
Lance has a warm smile on his lips and a melancholy tune playing in his eyes as he carefully stores away photo after photo.  
“Say Lance…” He looks up at Keith who is holding one of the last frames. “You said we were a couple, but I always wondered… were we actually married?”  
  
Lance takes the photo Keith is holding and runs a finger over the cold glass. It shows them both in suits, Keith in a black one and Lance in white, laughing like mad while Lance is holding a forget-me-not bouquet that seems to have wedding cake spread all over one side. His eyes turn fond for a second.  
“No, but we were engaged. And we did that at our friend’s wedding, can you imagine that?” He grins, but judging by the look in his eyes now, Keith knows that it is one of the stories from his past he will never get to hear about.  
  
That photo is the only one that stays, propped up on Lance’s nightstand with a bouquet of blue flowers next to it. The fact that the engagement happened just two weeks before Keith’s accident is a also a fact that never leaves Lance’s mouth. It doesn’t matter now, because even though things are different, everything is fine as it is.  
  
They are three years in after the accident and Lance finally stops counting.


End file.
